


We Are but Broken Souls (In Search of Something Real)

by ArtsyDeath



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adultery, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Comeplay, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Dubious Morality, F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, Naked Female Clothed Male, Porn With Plot, Power Dynamics, Rimming, Rough Sex, Under-Desk Blow Jobs, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 18:26:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18145820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtsyDeath/pseuds/ArtsyDeath
Summary: It has been years since they escaped Malfoy Manor but a part of Hermione still lingers inside its walls, stolen beyond her grasp with the death of the one who'd peeled her open raw and bleeding.It's supposed to be just another ball, another Ministry function, but a chance meeting turns it into something else entirely.-Or: Hermione craves something to fill the hole in her soul and Lucius is an opportunist.





	We Are but Broken Souls (In Search of Something Real)

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous request Hermione/Lucius + cheating (with my own twist on it).

_Ron will never forgive me,_ the words bounces inside her mind as Lucius presses her up against the office door, mouth hungry and devouring, one leg hitched up against him, tongue dragging against hers as she groans into it.

They’re at a Ministry Ball arranged at the Malfoy Manor. Ron had refused to go and Harry was in the middle of it as always, leaving her alone to socialise among people who wanted little to do with her.

It wasn’t an excuse but-

He grinds against her, the heady smell of his cologne evident and consuming as she breathes in hard, pulling away from him as her head presses back and he wastes no time sealing his mouth over her bare throat, hands rucking her skirt up and pulling her underwear off before hefting her up with both legs around his waist.

She can feel the bulge of his erection through the pants, the rough fabric dragging against her clit and folds as he pushes up against her roughly, her back sliding against the door with every slow and heavy thrust, grinding her between the door and himself in a way that makes her stomach knot up, nails digging into his shirt, the heavy outer robes discarded on the floor where she’d impatiently pushed them off him.

His mouth is wet and warm, tongue deliciously rough where it drags against her sensitive skin, trailing down as he hoists himself against her and she’s aware of the slick between her legs rubbing against the fabric of his dark slacks as she moans.

“What would your husband say if he could see you like this?” Lucius breathes against her skin, teeth dragging roughly over her collar bone.

“What would you wife say if she could see you ready to fuck a _mudblood_?” Hermione challenges, twitching as he pushed against her hard, walls clenching down as the drag of his bulge through her folds, letting her really feel his hardness.

“Such filthy language,” he groans. “I should punish you for that.” He strains against her and she drags her nails down his back, worming herself more thoroughly around him to get her mouth over his ear, dragging her tongue over the shell to a hitch of his breath.

“Yeah?” she breathes against it. “You want to see me bent over your knee Mr Malfoy?” She scrapes her teeth over his ear as he stutters against her. “Want to make me count for you?” Hermione blows cool air against the wet skin, enjoying his shudder, grip tightening on her thighs.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He hoists her up with one arm, reaching between them to free himself from his pants with a groan of relief. “But I’m going to fuck you and I’m going to come inside of you-" her breath hitches, “- and then, if you’re begging me, I might allow you to come on my cock after I’m done filling you up so completely you’ll never be able to take your husband again without thinking of _me_.”

The broad head finds the entrance easily and Hermione groans as it strains against her, pushing insistently until she opened up around him, swallowing him up into her warm depth to straining walls that clenched around him to pull him deeper until he was pushing up against her cervix with a jerk of his hips as he buried the last inch inside of her.

Hermione swallows at the size of him – at the feel of a cock that wasn’t her husband’s forcing her to spread completely around him, shuddering at the knowledge of just _who_ she was allowing inside of her to a curl of shame that turns to want as he pulls out, just a few inches, before pushing up back into her.

There’s little thought for her wants and needs as he takes her, cock dragging against her walls and pushing up to spread her around him with force against the door as she clings, shorts gasps of air leaving her with every hard thrust, holding on for dear life, unbearably turned on and ashamed for it even as she drags her mouth over his neck, mouthing against his skin.

Ron would never have taken her like this – would never have dared to be anything but deeply considerate for her wants and needs.

Lucius hitches himself up into her and she clenches hard as he comes inside of her without warning, hilted against the opening to her womb as he grinds her against the door.

He lifts her up without pulling out, carrying her across the room and sprawling her out on his desk with an impatient brush against the papers scattered there and she curls her back, pushing up against him, clenching around the half-hard cock still inside of her as he jerks against her with a curse.

Lucius bends over her, dragging down the hem of her dress and sealing his mouth over nipples that only hours ago had nursed her youngest son, sucking hungrily and without shame, her cheeks flushing as he pulled milk into his mouth, drinking as he rocked up against her, quickly hardening and forcing her to stretch around him as she squirmed.

He pulls back, grabbing and forcing her legs tight together as he hoisted them up, arms around them, making her tighten painfully around him as he dragged out and pushed into her with increasing roughness as she grasped at the sides of the table, aware of the movement of her heavy breasts, the way he watched her as he took her.

He pulls himself out of her roughly, dropping her legs and tugging her up into a filthy kiss before he turned her around, hips pushing up painfully against the side of the desk as he dragged the dress over her head and pushed her down, tongue pressing wetly from the bottom of her spine and up as she arched against him with a gasp.

“If you’re coming to come it’s going to be on my cock or my tongue,” he hisses as he forces his cock back into her, making her jerk with a gasp from the new angle, hands coming up to grasp white-knuckled at the side of the desk as he dragged his hand back and let it fall with a loud smack against her rump, left hand grasping at her hip, walls clenching down hard on him with a painful drag that made him grit his teeth.

“Liked that, did you?” he groans, hips smacking audible against her with each rough thrust, balls slapping against her folds as he fucked her. “Spread out and fucked by a Death Eater, you must be truly depraved.”

“Yeah,” she gasps. “And what does it say about you that you’re not satisfied with your pureblood wife?” She squeezes deliberately hard around him, pushing up on her toes for added depth and his grip tightened painfully on her hips and he hilted up into her and grinded painfully against her cervix as she hitched up against him.

Each rough thrust banged her thighs against the side of the desk, sure to leave bruises, nipples scraping painfully against the wood and his hands finds and grasps her hair, tugging her back in an arch as he came inside of her a second time, sticky semen splattering against her walls, and he brushed his thumb against her folds as he pulled out with a flutter of cold magic that made her jerk.

She opened her mouth to demand what he’d done only for both of them to turn towards the door at the sound of his name being called.

Hermione finds herself yanked up and pushed under the desk, cramming herself in as Lucius hurriedly grabbed papers from the ground, throwing her dress up on a chair and his robes over it, her panties disappearing down his pocket and he dropped into the chair in front of the desk, scooting it in just as Narcissa gave a soft knock and pushes the door open.

“Really, Lucius,” she said with fond exasperation at the sight of him at his desk. “We aren’t holding the ball here for you to sneak away and work.”

He leans back, removing the glasses hastily shoved on from his nose, forcing himself not to twitch as hands pressed between his legs, brushing up against his cock as he scooted deeper beneath the desk with a curl of disbelief at the daring of the girl.

Hermione on her part squeezes her walls a bit disbelievingly when the semen stays inside of her, refusing to budge, leaving a strangely squishy sort of feeling inside of her that she rubs her thighs together against, biting down on her lips as she eyes the cock still half-way out his pants, hidden from his wife’s sight with only a thin layer of wood.

She reaches for him and he pushes himself deeper beneath the desk in response, squishing her up tight and uncomfortable before she worms into something more workable, halfway into his lap, tongue dragging up against the limp cock as she keeps half an ear on the conversation above her.

She works it into her mouth, sucking on the tip of it, dipping her tongue out to stroke against the underside as he slowly hardens in her mouth, straining her jaw as she worked him deeper and deeper until she was breathing through her nose against his pubes, tongue rubbing thoroughly up against him.

One of his legs shifts, pushing up between hers and she squeezes down around it, rubbing her folds against it with a sticky wet slide against the fabric of his pants, working him slowly in and out of her mouth while thrusting up against him, aware of Narcissa close enough that she only had to take a step forward and bend down to see what exactly her husband was doing beneath the desk.

She comes with a shudder, pushing her clit hard against him with a jerk of her hips and a quiet groan when Narcissa finally bid goodbye after drawing a promise out of him to return soon and Hermione barely has time to react before hands were grasping either side of her face and he was pushing his cock hard into her, dragging her face and pushing her mouth back down around him as she gagged at the roughness, struggling to keep her jaw open loose and relaxed as he fucked roughly into her mouth.

She feels the way his balls smacks up against her chin, saliva dripping from her mouth as she grasped at his knees, forced to swallow him deep down her throat and held trapped between his legs as he jerked carefully into her as she gagged and strained against him before he released her, allowing her to pull back, coughing and gasping as she wiped at her mouth with fiendish eyes that fixated on him.

He holds out his hand and she reluctantly accepts it, his straining cock flattening up between them as he pulled her close for a kiss that made her slowly relax.

“That was a bad thing you did,” he breathes against her mouth as they separate. “Bad girls gets punished.”

Hermione swallows roughly, his thumb brushing thoughtfully against a swollen lip.

“I don’t beg for anyone,” she says, a challenge in the depth of her eyes as she searched his steel blue gaze.

“Everyone has their limits, little girl” Lucius murmurs as he backs her against the desk. “Pain, pleasure, it can mix together in the most delicious of ways but there’s always an edge when it becomes _too much._ ”

“I’m not a _little girl_ ,” Hermione snaps, baring her teeth.

“You’re twenty-three,” he snorts. “You’re barely older than my son.”

“Your son is an arrogant arse,” she growls against his lips as he pushes them up against hers and she grabbed at his shirt, deepening it into his mouth as he folded with a curious hum. “Maybe you’re the one who needs to be punished Mr Former Death Eater,” she murmurs against his lips where he stands, still clad, pressed up flush against the bare apex of her thighs.

His eyes flashes as magic curls thick and heady in her mouth, brushed out in a whisper of _Kneel._

Lucius knees thuds against the carpeted floor with a gasp, shock flashing briefly through his expression before something strange settles in its place as she looks down at him, seated on the desk, reaching out to tug the fancy tie of his hair, threading her fingers through the long pale blonde strands.

“Much better,” she says, mouth twitching up, legs deliberately spread where she looms over him, his cum squishing delightedly inside of her as her walls flexed down at the sight of him. “You purebloods always thinks you’re in control but it’s nothing but an illusion,” she practically purrs, dipping her toes to stroke against his thigh.

“That was Bellatrix’s trick,” he says carefully and she tilts her head.

“Let’s just say, I picked up more than a scar during our stay here during the war,” she murmurs, curbing the urge to reach out and touch the letters carved deep into her skin.

Bellatrix had kept her locked inside her room for nearly a month.

Ron and Harry had both thought she was simple held separate but the man at her feet knew the truth – had done nothing as he found her trussed up in pretty ropes on Bellatrix’s bed, the Dark Witch’s eyes glinting where she’d opened the door to hear his call to the Dark Lord’s side.

It had been intimate in a way that Hermione to the day struggled to place in a bad way. There had been something about relinquishing control so completely that had melted the stress of her mind and left something strange in its place, something she had never dared to mention to her husband.

And it also left an unwillingness to ever give herself up so completely ever again.

Bellatrix had died at the hands of Molly Weasley and she’d taken a part of Hermione with her, she’d known that since the end of the war, from the first time she made love to Ron and all she found afterwards was emptiness.

She hadn’t planned the evening – had never thought the man would look twice at her and yet, here they were, and for the first time since her marriage there’s a curl of genuine _want_ inside of her.

Hermione reaches out to place her heel at the back of his neck, nudging him forward, his cheek pressing against her thigh, close enough that she can feel his warm breath against her folds.

“You’ve taken my mouth, you’ve fucked my _cunt,”_ she drags the word, allowing the invitation to settle with a stretch of silence as his eyes sharpened upon her. “You'd need to stretch me open but you’ve already promised me that you wouldn’t use your fingers… tell me, _Lucius,_ are you a man of your words?” She raises an eyebrow, leaning back on her arms and curling her back to lift her rump up.

There’s a moment of indecision when he’s staring at her bared folds, gaze trailing lower as he breathes carefully in and out, clearly struggling with himself before he leaned forward and inhaled the scent of her.

“On your belly?” he asks and Hermione turns willingly, toes curling as his hands grasped at her cheeks and spread her open for him, tongue dipping down and dragging all the way up in a way that made her breath hitch.

It’s slow work and Hermione finds herself relaxing against the desk, humming as he squirmed his tongue inside of her, soothing the tense ring to relax until he could drag his tongue out and push it in again with minor resistance, fucking her on his tongue as her walls fluttered around the thick cum inside of her.

She comes with an arch of her back, elbows pushing down against the desk, and he drags back with a shuddering breath, looking at her as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d done as he leaned forward, dragging his teeth over one of her cheeks to a little jerk.

“My turn,” he growls, dragging her down into his lap and rolling them over, her hands pushing down against the rug as he hoisted her up on her knees, spreading her cheeks as he pushed forward, forcing the tight ring to spread around him, settling tight over the head of his cock and dragging down his shaft as he fed her inch after inch until his hips smacked up against hers.

He strokes a hand down her flank, staring at the obscene picture of his broad cock spreading her out impossibly wide in a way that was neither decent nor conventional.

“Narcissa would never have allowed this,” he says, dragging himself out of her until only the head remained before pushing forward. “Filthy mudblood,” he growls but there’s a harsh ragged quality to his voice that makes her mouth curl and push back against him with the next thrust, burying him deeper faster and harder than he'd expected as his fingers dug into her hip.

“You like it,” Hermione says through a ragged gasp. “You like taking me like this – on my knees, inside my ass, your cum squishing inside of my cunt.” Both his hands settles hard and heavy on her hips as he thrust into her and she spreads her legs, taking him deeper with a little curl of her back as he set a punishing pace that dragged deliciously, pain and pleasure mixing together from the lack of lube and proper preparation as her own fingers dug white-knuckled into the carpet.

The rhythmic drag, the fast smack of his hips against her, the knowledge that the door was unlocked, that Narcissa could return any moment to find her husband with his cock deep inside her ass – all of it mixed into a heady pleasure as his balls slapped against her cunt, breasts rocking with each thrust.

She can feel his belt, the rough fabric of his pants as he scraped her insides raw with growing desperation as he hilted himself into her over and over again.

“If you’re going to come,” Hermione pants. “I want it in my cunt – I want to go home so filled with you that my husband won’t be able to get himself inside of me without feeling you all around him.”

“Fuck – you’re, damn it woman-“ he curses as he yanked out of her ass and pushed back into her cunt, hilting up and emptying himself for a third time with a hard grind against her cervix as she shuddered at the feeling, slowly relaxing beneath him, going willingly as he nudged her around onto her back.

He grasped her tightly, arms folding around her, legs hoisting up on his hips as he rocked lazily into her and her eyes widened as he soon swelled up inside of her with a groan and a deep hard thrust that made her dig her fingers into his back, hardly able to move beneath his weight as he dragged against her sensitive walls, squishing her clit with every thrust down into her.

The wet squelch of the cum inside of her made her cheeks flush even as she tightened down on him, orgasm inevitable as he fucked her into the carpet, her hips hitching, barely able to press up against him as he kept a hars pace into her until he came inside of her with a stutter of his hips, completely spent as his muscles slowly relaxed around her.

-

He watches her dress in silence afterwards, her panties still stuffed inside of his pocket as she straightened out the skirt of her dress.

He imagines the picture of her, at home, when the magic released – his cum dripping down her thighs.

Would she be in the shower, water cascading down upon her? In bed with her sleeping husband?

The thought makes his spent cock stir in interest and he grimaces as he takes a step forward, palm pushing flat against the office door where he pauses.

Lucius remembers her – tied up, only seventeen, cheeks red, buttocks bruised black and blue, tear tracks on her cheeks and breasts straining against the ropes.

Remembers the way she’d pushed into Bellatrix’s palm when the Dark Witch had stroked against her cheek and over her wild hair, eyes closing as the older woman bent down to speak quietly into her ear with a little nip before grabbing her wand and eagerly sweeping past Lucius and down the hall to their waiting Lord.

She hadn’t begged – hadn’t made an attempt to reach out for him, lost in her mind as she breathed slow and relaxed where she laid, completely bare and helpless.

The question lingers on his tongue but he swallows it down and she raises an eyebrow at him, evidently having given up her search for her underwear.

“Until next time,” he murmurs, leaving it deliberately vague as her mouth curled.

“As you say, Mr Malfoy.” She dips her head and Lucius hums as he heads in the opposite direction in search of his wife.

**Author's Note:**

> Someone made a request and here we are. I've always struggled a bit with writing Lucius but I think I managed to wrestle him down into what I wanted here.
> 
> I was going a bit back and forth with how I wanted to portray Hermione here, considering the angle of the request, and I think I'm decently happy with how it turned out.
> 
> I'm artsy-death on tumblr if you're hanging around there~ I post info and bits from projects mixed with nerdy stuff.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!


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